


Since the First Time I Saw You

by lizziebobizzy



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, also: warning: i am very slow at updating this (sorry), cassandra clare is an amazing writer ok she just has such an inspiring way with words, jace is so romantic tho isn't he, tmi quotes are a source of endless inspiration tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-12 05:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizziebobizzy/pseuds/lizziebobizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two people who happen to be stepsiblings but belong to each other in a very unsibling-like way. The slow coming together of Clary and Jace over the course of two decades. ("Clary, since the first time I saw you, I have belonged to you completely."—Jace, City of Glass)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_October 2008_

**Jace - 20 years old  
Clary - 19 years old**

_Oh, God_ , Clary groaned internally as she woke up. _My head_ … _Ugh, what’s going on?_ She tried to close her eyes and go back to sleep, but the pounding in her head refused to go away. _The bed is spinning…round and round…_

For a couple of moments, Clary lay there, on her back, staring at the ceiling. Then she became aware of a warm arm laid possessively across her stomach. _Oh no_ , she thought. She knew this arm, this tan, toned arm. She didn’t even have to look to know whom this arm belonged to.

She turned her head to the right and spared some more moments to study the boy sleeping next to her. He was on his stomach, his head turned to the side on his pillow. Turned to his left, actually. Clary hadn’t really noticed until Isabelle had pointed it out the night before, but his body seemed to always be naturally attuned towards hers, always turned towards hers. _Even in sleep_ , Clary mused.

She spent a long time studying his golden hair. Was she biased when she thought his behead and the way his messy, wavy locks fell onto his forehead looked awfully sexy, or was it his preternatural ability in looking attractive? Her hands positively itched to brush his hair back, but she wanted to watch him some more while he was unaware, and he was a light sleeper.

She moved on from his hair. Too many peopled focused on that part of him, that and the way his amber eyes looked golden in the sunlight. It was the orange and yellow flecks, Clary knew already, to his already warm brown eyes that lent them their exotic look (not to mention the attractive mischievous glint often seen in them). God knew how many times she had used the excuse of studying his eyes to press up to him and stare at his face.

But not enough people recognized that his hair and his eyes were only parts of a whole. That his sinfully sexy mouth was just as hot, especially when they curved upward in that boyish heart-stopping grin of his. (Even now, with a little drool dripping out of his mouth, Clary thought he was ridiculously cute. Was she biased or could he make even drool look cute? Clary thought fretfully. Who in her right mind thought _drool_ was cute?) That the long rich gold eyelashes that brushed his cheek, his prominent cheekbones, the sharp cut of his jaw all added up to an almost unbelievable beauty. (Clary may or may not have sighed a little in her pondering).

Clary’s eyes traveled from his face, down his long neck, along his jutting shoulder blades, and to the curve of his back. _How is he so beautiful?_ she wondered. _How is it possible?_

Wait.

Eyeing the tan skin along the curve of his back meant only one thing.

He was shirtless.

And it was one thing to be wake up next to him in bed, another to wake up next to him while he was missing a shirt and God knows what else.

He moaned and blinked slowly as he awoke—damn it, he was just adorable in everything he did, Clary groused, when she needed to spend hours in the bathroom to get a single “cute” coming her way—revealing those amber eyes she loved, no, admired, Clary corrected.

“Clary?” he mumbled. “Ugh—argh—what the—?”

Clary closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing to face the consequences of last night’s actions.

Because this was Jace Herondale. Her stepbrother.

* * *

_October 1993_

**Jace – 5 years old  
Clary – 4 years old**

“Come in, come in,” said Jocelyn Fairchild, standing at the doorway of her apartment. She smiled at her fiancé, Luke Garroway, then directed her gaze towards the boy at his side. “Hi! You must be Jace!”

Jace stared up at her, eyes narrowed. Jocelyn blinked. It must have been a trick of the light, but his eyes looked almost…golden. “Yeah,” he said brusquely, brushing past Jocelyn on his way in.

“Jace—” Luke called out, then thought better of it. He shook his head and stared helplessly after Jace’s back. “Sorry about that. He’s not good with strangers.”

“That’s okay.” Jocelyn smiled shyly up at him. “I know from what you’ve said that he’s a good kid.” It wasn’t how she imagined having Luke in her apartment or meeting his adopted son for the first time would go, but all that mattered was that they were here.

Luke looked at her tenderly, as if he were thinking the same thing. “So,” he said.

“So.” She couldn’t stop from grinning widely.

Luke stepped close to Jocelyn. “Guess we should go inside,” he murmured. “Introduce the kids to each other.”

“Yeah. Tell them to play nice, that sort of stuff.”

“I’ve never really been a fan of playing nice.” Luke’s eyes glinted mischievously before he swooped down to take Jocelyn’s lips with his.

Jocelyn’s body melted for him, as usual. Her hands rose to his hair, and her tongue swept along his mouth. “Mmm,” she sighed.

 

After a long heated moment, Jocelyn pulled away, quite reluctantly. “Well. That was unexpected.”

Luke smirked. “But nice, right?” he prompted. He leaned in for another kiss.

“Luke!” Jocelyn stepped back. “We really should check on the kids.” She quickly left Luke’s embrace to head towards the living room, leaving Luke to ponder woefully on a woman’s cruel ability to turn her love on and off like a switch.

He turned from the hallway, only to unexpectedly bump into Jocelyn’s back, who had abruptly stopped in front of the doorframe to the living room. “What’s going—”

“Sh!” Jocelyn’s hand whipped around and slapped Luke’s shoulder, aiming, presumably, for his mouth. She backed up suddenly, pushing up against Luke—who didn’t mind at all.

Luke peered over Jocelyn’s head.  “Ah.”

“—And so I said, ‘Prove it!’ and he said he didn’t feel like it and I was like, ‘No, you’re just lying; you can’t touch the ceiling’…” rambled Clary on the couch to a raptly listening Jace. They sat close together on the edge of the couch in the way children, unaware of intimacy of skin-to-skin contact, often are, bodies pressed together from their shoulder to their knees.  Clary’s stubby legs swung wildly next to Jace’s still ones.

She was playing on her Gameboy Color, obsessed with the latest Pokémon game. Eyes intent on the flashing screen, Clary missed the way Jace’s own eyes were oblivious to Clary’s game and focused only on her face. His head was bent close to hers, not to peer at console but to study her more intently. His eyes roved over the line of her cheekbone, the curve of her nose, her quick-moving mouth.

His hand played idly with a braid, fingers threading through her hair, sometimes stopping to lightly tug, pulling one side of her head down.

“Hey!” Clary would say, a bubbly peal of giggly laughter escaping her. She looked at Jace, eyes bright. “Stop that!”

Jace would grin back, bringing a boyishness to the pretty face that only enhanced his good-looking features. “Look,” he said, distracting her. “A wild Pidgy appeared.”

“Oh!” cried Clary, returning to her game, leaving Jace to study her once more. Clary continued her story. “Guess what else, happened today, Jace? I saw Morgan _pick her nose_ …”

After a while, she flopped onto Jace’s lap, the back of her head on his thigh, and swung her little legs on to the couch, clearly very at ease with the boy she had met for the first time today. She thrust her DS above her face and continued playing this way. “…There’s this wall, and it’s like 600 feet tall, and I climbed all the way up and walked along the edge…” Clary boasted as she wrapped herself around Jace.

Jocelyn looked back at Luke, who looked shocked. “Jace hates strangers,” he said. “And people he knows well. He hates everyone. You have no idea how strange this is.”

“Well it’s good that they’ve hit off so well!” Jocelyn said happily. “Especially, since, you know, we’re all going to be family soon.”

Luke shook his head vehemently. “No, I mean this isn’t just hitting off well for Jace. That would be acknowledgement, maybe a nod from my son. This is the regular people equivalent of getting married for Jace!” He continued when she laughed. “You think I’m joking, Joce, but I’m not.”

“Well I think this is a good sign. I only hope…”

“What?”

“No, nothing. I’m just being silly. Clary,” Jocelyn called her daughter, who was sitting back upright with her side pressing into Jace, her head leaning on Jace’s shoulder. “Why don’t you give poor Jace some space?”

Clary’s head popped up, but before she could move away, Jace’s hand reached hers in a flash as he interlaced his fingers with hers. Gripping them tightly with all his childish strength, he called, “I’m good, Ms. Fray. I don’t mind. I like having her here.”

Clary looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes. “I like being here,” she said shyly.

“Okay, kids,” said Jocelyn, a little uncertainly. “Well, Mom and Luke will be in the kitchen if you need them,” she said, but she fell on deaf ears. Jace and Clary, who had been facing Jocelyn while they were talking, had already turned their bodies towards each other again, both incredibly in tune to the other.

Luke asked, “See? Should we be worried about such a strong attachment already?”

“I’m sure they’re fine. They’re both good kids, and I have a good feeling about this.”

 

Eventually, it was time for Luke and Jace to return to their home.

“Bye Luke, bye Jace,” Clary said cheerfully at the doorway. “See you tomorrow.”

Jace looked at her, gaze intense for a five-year old boy. He took a step back into the apartment, up close to Clary, and pressed his lips to her temple, letting them linger for a couple of seconds. After a while, he stepped back. “Bye, Clary,” he said softly before turning and walking away. He never looked back.

Jocelyn looked at her daughter, part in amusement, part in wonder, and part in worry. “Clary?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you know you were going to see Jace again tomorrow?”

“Oh, Jace told me. He said we’ll see each other tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. We’re going to be together for a long, long time,” she proclaimed with an air of stating the obvious. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jace proposes.

_September 1993_

**Jace – 5 years old  
** **Clary – 4 years old**

“Again?” Luke asked. “We just went visited Clary and Joce yesterday.”

"But, Dad," Jace said. "Today's different."

"Hm? How so?"

"It just is, okay?"

“Well, if you say so then...” Luke said in a knowing tone. He quickly texted Joce:  _Coming over again. Jace wants to see Clary._

The reply was immediate. _Just Jace? :)_

Luke smiled to himself. _And of course I always want to see you_ , he sent. 

_Well come over quickly then._

***

"Hello, Jace!" Joce said enthusiastically as she opened the door.

"Yay! Jace's here," Clary exclaimed as she launched her tiny self at the boy.

"Oomph!" Jace tried his best to catch her, stumbling a few steps backward. "Hi, Clary," he said, a smile breaking through his stoic demeanor.

"Boy, do I have so much to tell you about." Clary dragged Jace off to the direction of her bedroom. "You can help GI Joe defeat the evil Barbie."

"Ugh, playing with dolls again?" Jace complained, but he followed pretty obediently.

Luke leaned against the doorjamb of the entranceway. "Hit off again, huh?"

Joce smiled. "Makes all our worries seem so silly, doesn't it?"

"I mean, they get along so well, we might as well just get married—wait, shit!” He groaned and bent his head. “I did not think that ahead.”

"Luke Garroway, did you just propose to me and cuss in the same breath?" Joce's eyes were dancing with laughter.

"No, I just meant—well you wanted to wait so the children could get to know each other—but since they get along so well, you know, I thought... I just really want to marry you, okay, you infuriating woman?" Luke said, exasperated, as Joce continued to laugh at him.

"Well, shit, yes, I'll marry you," Joce joked. She looked tenderly at her boyfriend—now fiancé, she corrected herself. So this is what a healthy, loving relationship was like, Joce realized. Had anyone ever made her so happy with so little effort? 

* * *

 

_December 1993_

“Hello? Joce speaking,” Jocelyn said as she picked up the phone. “How may I help you?”

“Ms. Fray? It’s Anna Reveille, Clary and Jace’s preschool teacher. I was wondering if we could talk for a moment?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course. I thought you were one of my customers, but of course I’m free. And please, call me Joce.”

“Are you waiting for a call? I can call again later…”

“No, now’s great. I’d love to discuss any concerns you have about my children. I hope Jace isn’t posing too much of a problem at school? I know he can be a bit antisocial.” Joce bit her lip worriedly. “He’s really a total sweetheart on the inside, if you give him a chance,” Joce assured.

“Oh no—I’m sure he… Well, yes, his aloofness does worry me, yes. But that’s only part of the matter. It’s more of Jace and Clary when they’re together that I’m worried about.”

“Oh.” Joce understood with a sudden clarity.

“Yes, they’re very…close. Clary—such a sweet, lovely girl by the way”—Joce grinned at the compliment. Such sentiment towards Clary came by often, and Joce enjoyed all of the praise wholeheartedly as if it were directed toward herself—“is friends with the entire class, of course, I’m sure you’re not surprised, but she does primarily spend her time with Jace. They can often go the whole day talking only to each other. It’s very…unusual, to say the least.”

“Mm-hmm. That’s not anything new actually. They really hit off from the first time they saw each other.”

“I know from the roster that they have different last names…”

“Yeah, Jace and Clary are both children Luke and I had before our marriage.” Joce’s voice remained steady and didn’t waver. She and Luke had decided to be very open about their family history, but this was the first time she’d ever told the truth to someone other than a close friend.

“I see. I understand. With all due respect, I’m afraid I must ask, but such a strong bond between children is obviously very rare. Especially among siblings, even stepsiblings, such a relationship often occurs when children feel threatened from an authority figure and cannot find reassurance anywhere else…”

“No,” Joce said firmly. “I appreciate the concern, but Luke is a wonderful dad who would put Jace before his own life. I have been in an abusive relationship in the past, and I would never put either of my children through that again. I recognize the signs of an abusive temperament very well, and I’m honestly a little insulted at the insinuation.”

“Of—of course.” Anna’s voice hitched slightly. Joce believed in being honest about her past as an abuse victim, but her policy tended to shock unsuspecting listeners. “I just had to ask and make sure. I met Luke on the first day of school, and he seemed like a wonderful man.”

Joce’s voice warmed slightly. “I know you’re just doing your job. Is that all then?”

“Actually, there’s another reason why I asked. Jace, he’s normally a very bright, well-mannered boy, but he can get very angry sometimes. It worries me that I can’t get on read on him. Just today he, well, he got into an incident during nap time.”

“Oh no.” Joce’s hand went up to cover her mouth.

“Nothing serious,” Anna reassured. “Kids get pushy sometimes and don’t realize what they’re doing.”

“What happened?”

“Well, during nap time Clary usually picks a mat next to her friends. She never actively seeks Jace out, but I’ve noticed that she always picks a spot on the edge of her friend group so that there’s space to her other side. Jace always inevitably ends up dragging a mat to the empty space. Only this time another boy beat him to it. Normally, I’m sure Jace would’ve just ordered him to leave—he’s very charismatic, all the other kids always do what he says—but the boy was running his hands through Clary’s hair, saying something about how red it was, just like the ‘paint my mom uses for her hair.’”

“Oh man. Kids have no filters.”

“I now know that Ms. Lewis’s hair is not naturally that color,” Anna said wryly. “Anyway, Jace pushed his way very bodily in between Clary and the boy, forcing the boy back a couple of steps. He seems to be a little possessive of Clary’s hair. ‘Your nasty booger fingers shouldn’t be in the same room as Clary’s hair. Don’t even think about touching it,’ he threatened.

“Hah!” Joce laughed, surprised. “Booger fingers!”

Anna giggled herself. “The boy obviously got offended and started spluttering, but Jace cut him off by pushing him backwards. ‘Unless she asks you,’ he growled, ‘don’t touch her, don’t talk to her, don’t even look in her direction,’ he growled. I was going to intervene, but Clary yanked him back and gave him quite the scolding herself. He calmed down immediately after that.”

Joce worried her lip. “Still, that sounds characteristic of Jace. He’s very protective, and also very angry. He’s so young, but already I feel this distance between him and the world. I’m glad he lets Clary in, but I wish he would trust us adults more.”

“You do a great job; I’m sure,” Anna reassured. “Rarely do the kids talk about their parents, but Jace mentions both of you often—all good things of course.”

“Thank you,” Joce said sincerely, deciding she quite liked Clary and Jace’s preschool teacher.

 

_The Next Day_

“Okay, kids, it’s snowing outside, so recess inside today.” Anna could already feel a headache coming up at the chaos the twenty some preschoolers would wreak, confined inside and without a chance to vent their pent up energy outside.

 Jace immediately drew to Clary’s side and gripped her hand tightly, pulling her to a corner of the room. “Stay here,” he ordered.

“Jace.” The force with which the four-year old rolled her eyes could move boulders. “I need to finish my princess drawing. I’m adding my prince today.”

“Then draw me. But _stay_ _there._ ”

Clary huffed but plopped down on to the floor. Like Jace had demanded, she began adding in her prince on a white horse, making sure he had blond hair and golden eyes. Except…she couldn’t find the right color for Jace’s eyes.

Clary was aghast. If her 120 Crayola Crayons box didn’t even have her favorite color, what good was it for? She searched through her pack frantically. No, no, no. Laser Lemon was too bright, Canary too pale.

Regular Crayola gold looked like mud compared to Jace’s gold, Clary thought distastefully. She tried mixing Unmellow Yellow with Neon Carrot, but all she got was what looked like a lump of poop in a puddle of pee. She scrunched her noise up furiously.

“Here.” A pudgy hand shoved its way in front of her face, interrupting her internal conflict. “Give me your hand; I’ll put it on you.”

Clary sighed internally. She loved Jace, but he could be _so overbearing_ sometimes. Raising her head, she barked out a “What?”

Jace sat down behind her. Clary’s drawing caught his eye, and he cocked his head. “Is that supposed to be me?” Jace asked, eyeing the Clary’s “prince” warily. “Why don’t I have eyes or hair? Hey, why am I shorter than you? The guy can’t be shorter than the girl,” Jace protested indignantly. “You need to draw me cool and big, like Tony Stark.”

“I’m not done yet!” Clary flushed. Drawing was serious business. “Besides you’re shorter than me, so that’s how I should draw it in the first place!”

“I am not.” Jace worked to keep his voice level. “And only by a little bit; it barely even counts. No, wait.” Jace raised his hand to ward off any further argument. “There’s something else. Give me your hand,” he ordered impatiently, grabbing it even before he had finished speaking.

He unfolded her fingers, taking out the crayon from her fist, and then stopped abruptly. “No, not this one,” he said, reaching across her body to grab her left hand this time.

Clary, her interest piqued, watched as Jace carefully tied what seemed to be a band of paper around her ring finger. The two children huddled together, as they were wont to do, completely at ease in each other’s personal space, Jace’s left leg thrown over Clary’s right as he leaned over her hands.

“What’s this?” Clary exclaimed in surprise as she lifted her left palm up and twisted her hand this way and that to observe the new adornment to her ring finger, unconsciously imitating a very newlywed gesture.

“It’s a way to let all those jerks know you’re mine,” Jace said stormily. “I can’t believe Simon did that—he touched your hair—I…hngh.” Frustrated, but apparently unable to give words to the monstrous sin that Simon had committed, Jace could only end on a growl. “Only I get to touch your hair,” he pouted. “Your hair’s just for me. No one else.

“ ‘Yours?’ ” Clary looked at Jace with wide eyes and a mouth parted for a laugh. “Like a 120 Crayola box that everyone else wants to use?”

“No!” Clary flinched, surprised by the vehemence of Jace’s outburst. “You’re not...you’re not just some _toy_ to me. You’re mine, but…you also own me. We own each other. I just…” Jace closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair with frustration, pulling on locks angrily.

Clary worriedly reached for the discontent boy. “Jace, stop! What are you doing? Why are you so mad? Simon didn’t hurt me, really.”

“Only me.” This was said with finality. “Only I get to touch you like this, okay, Clary?” The firm pressure of Jace’s hands holding hers made Clary blush, although she had no idea why. Jace opened his eyes and looked steadily into Clary’s eyes.

“Sure,” the girl promised childishly. “I like your touch the best anyway.”

Jace closed his eyes in relief. “Good. Then don’t ever take this off.” He pointed towards Clary’s paper ring.

“Never?” Clary raised both brows comically. “Even when I’m taking a bath?”

“Fine,” Jace conceded. “Except when you’re taking a bath. And when you go to sleep; who knows what would happen to it then.”

Clary glowered, but had nothing to retaliate with. She notoriously slept wildly, tossing and turning and kicking in her sleep, grumbling loud gibberish. Clary’s sleeping fits were something of an inside joke in the family, much to Clary’s irritation.

“Just…keep it some place safe when you take it off. And don’t even think about forgetting our promise.” Jace’s voice was dark with tension.

 Looking closer, Clary noticed markings all over the band.

 “What’s this?” Clary tugged at the paper. “Did you make a drawing?”

“Don’t.” Jace’s hand shot out to stop her. “It might rip. I wrote my name on it. Dad showed me how yesterday.”

Clary looked hard at the ring, while Jace pressed into her side. “See,” he pointed out to her. “J—A—C—E. Jace.”

“No fair! I want to write _my_ name on you.” Clary pouted.

“Okay! That sounds good. Really good. Let’s ask Ms. Reveille.”

Anna looked up as the two children walked up. “Yes, kids?” she asked, making sure to keep her voice light. She’d just been breaking up a conflict between two girls over who’d farted in the reading room, and the noise level was escalating with every passing second no matter how frequently she tried to shush the class, but that wasn’t Clary and Jace’s fault. She groaned internally. She needed an Advil, stat.

“Can you show me how to write my name?” Clary asked with a sweet smile. “I need to make a ring for Jace. Look at what Jace made for me!” Proudly, she jutted out her left hand for Anna to clearly see a paper strip with “JACE” scrawled all over it tied around Clary’s ring finger.

Anna answered weakly, “Sure thing, Clary.” Her degree in early childhood education had not prepared her for marriage proposals between stepsiblings, Anna thought miserably. She needed an Advil. 

* * *

_January 1994_

Jace studied his popsicle house with a critical eye. Since Clary was sick, he wanted to bring back something awesome from arts and craft time to rub it in her face. It was her fault for leaving him all alone here anyway. He really wanted to sit next to her and wrap his arms around her. He missed the warm weight of her head on his shoulder.

Alec sat to his side, working quietly beside him. Alec was a good friend, Jace decided. They worked well together. A lot of the other kids liked to cry and chatter and giggle all the time, but not Alec.

Speaking of empty chatterers, Isabelle Lightwood, Alec’s little sister, slid smoothly in the empty seat to his other side. “Where’s your sidekick?” she sneered.

Jace sighed. Isabelle liked to tag along with him and Alec sometimes, and he couldn’t scare her off or be mean to her like he was towards the other girls who had cooties who wanted to talk to him because then Alec would get mad at him. (He’d tried threatening her a couple of times when Alec wasn’t looking, but she didn’t scare easily. He could grudgingly admire her for that.) “Sick,” he said curtly.

“No, look, you’re doing it all wrong,” Isabelle corrected, as she leaned forward.

Jace snarled, “ _Don’t_ ” just as Isabelle’s fingertips reached his project, but she ignored him as usual, evening out his roof.

It did look better that way, Jace had to admit.

* * *

 

  _September 1994_

**Jace – 6 years old (kindergarten)  
** **Clary – 5 years old (preschool)**

“Clary, where are you going?” Jocelyn laughed in confusion, her voice light. “Get back in the car, young lady?”

“Wha?” Clary looked from just beside the parked car, her hand securely in Jace’s. Luke, who was escorting Jace on his first day of kindergarten, was already inside the school already, registering Jace in.

Jace, impatient to explore the new building, began walking along the path to the main door. He tugged Clary’s hand. “Come on,” he urged.” Let’s go.”

“No, no, no,” Joce called, laughing hysterically. “Clary, come back. You’re still going to preschool.”

Clary came back obediently, plopping into the car, as Joce revved the car, preparing to drive Clary to her preschool.

“I don’t get it,” called a voice that was very much not her daughter’s. “Why’d we even come here if we weren’t going to go at all?”

Joce looked back with her mouth open, smothering her laughter with one hand. Her daughter had brought Jace back along with her.

Both amused and exasperated, Joce got out the car. She and Luke should have seen this coming.

“All righty,” she said, hauling Jace up from his armpits. “Let’s go now. Clary, you stay in the car and wait for me, okay?”

Joce began lifting Jace out of the car but jerked to a standstill as she encountered resistance. She looked at Jace, who lay meekly in her arms but remained holding hands with Clary.

She jerked Jace over, but the kids’ arms locked in place.

“Where’s Jace going?” Clary asked plaintively.

“What is going on?” a voice asked.

Joce sighed in relief. “Luke! Come help me. Jace won’t leave without Clary.”

Jace’s eyes widened as he finally understood. He stuck his lower lip out stubbornly. “Where are you taking me, woman? Wherever I go, Clary goes," he declared

“What? Jace’s leaving without me?” Her voice trembled.

Luke knelt down on the ground to look Clary in the eye. Joce was sure they all made a ridiculous picture, Jace still in her arms and linked to Clary in the car and Luke on the ground next to the car.

“Sweetie,” Luke reassured, “Jace is just going to a different school now”—“What?” Clary cried, but Luke continued, “but he’ll be back home right when school ends again, okay? It’ll be like when you first met each other and only came over every couple of days.

“No! I don’t want that!” Clary’s voice grew louder and louder. “Why!”

Joce and Luke slid frantic glances at each other. Parents for over five years, they recognized the signs of an impending temper tantrum.

“Please, Jace,” Joce said quickly in a low voice. “You have to go to this school, and Jace has to go to the other one. No,” she said firmly when Jace looked like he was about to protest, “that’s just the way it works. Don’t argue with me on this please. Can you get Clary to let go?”

Jace looked Joce in the eye for some time, while Luke tried to calm Clary down in the background.

“Fine,” he said. “Put me back down and I’ll talk to her.” Joce followed his words immediately, setting him back in the car.

“Scooch over, Clary,” he told her. She looked at him as she moved, unshed tears brimming in her eyes.

“Where are you going, Jace?”

Jace’s heart twinged at the melancholy in her voice. “I have to go for now, Clary—”

“NO!”

“But _I promise you_ , I’ll be back as soon as school ends.”

“No,” Clary repeated but more softly this time.

“Look, I have to, okay. But it’s okay. I’ll see you in the morning and in the afternoon. It’s just a couple of hours. You can still talk to me about how Morgan won’t stop picking his nose. You can tell me all about how Isabelle dared you to climb the wall. I’ll be back in a few hours, and then we can watch Spongebob together and you can give me all your broccoli at dinner. We’ll still be together, just not all the time.”

Clary didn’t say anything, but she gripped his hand tightly.

“Here,” Jace said suddenly as he was struck with an idea. He tore his tiny hoodie off and shoved it at Clary. “Wear this. When I’m not there, it’ll be like me, okay? It’ll keep you warm and stuff, and you can pretend it’s me.”

“O-okay. Do you want my sweater?”

“Nah, that girly thing? I’m way too manly for that. Besides, I don’t want you to get cold.”

“It’s not girly!”

“Listen, Clary, I have to go now—no, no, don’t cry,” Jace begged. “Please don’t cry.” He cupped her face, showering kisses all over it. He placed several across her forehead, then descended her cheeks, running his hands through her hair and over her shoulders. “That’s it. Good girl. You’re a brave girl, aren’t you?”

Clary bit her lip and nodded tearfully, jerking her head up and down.

Jace stepped out of the car. “Now don’t trouble Mom or Dad, okay?”

“O-okay…”

Clary still looked sad, so Jace acted impulsively and leaned his head in, pecking her on the lips. Hm. That felt nice, so he did it again. Then a third time, because third time was the charm. “There,” he declared. “Mom and Dad do it all the time. It means we have to be together forever now. So don’t be sad, Clary.”

Clary leaned back into the car seat. Somewhere in the background she heard Luke admonishing Jace, telling him he couldn’t do that to his stepsister, but she didn’t pay it any attention.

Clary pressed her fingers to her lips and smiled.


End file.
